Spencer Reid, autistic profiler
by KT.gd744
Summary: Basically this is going to be a collection of stories about Reid and his autism, and how he and his team deal with it. One chapter may not particularly follow on from another, i one Reid may be in a relationship, the next he’s not ect. If you have any requests or suggestions then I would be happy to hear them, I would love it in fact. (This is the first time I’ve ever done this)
1. Changes and meltdowns

"Spencer, my office" Gideon called as his fast pace led him there, he didn't bother to check if Spencer was following, he knew he was. When he heard a hesitant and stammered "yes sir?" He smiled, knowing that the young man was likely thinking all sorts of possibilities, that perhaps he'd done something wrong, perhaps he was being fired, perhaps his mentor was actually a psychopath and was going to kill him upon entering. The fact that it was so amazingly unlikely didn't stop him from thinking it. It wasn't a lack of trust, nor lack of intelligence, that much always obvious. But with a mind capable of so much thought, a mind working as mindmaps and flow charts, a mind that has to work so much harder to understand the world, but so much less to understand, well, just about anything else, it's not surprising that some ridiculous thoughts passed through, as well as all of the perfectly logical ones. Somewhere in that mess of thoughts about this unknown situation, was probably a quiet thought saying _'maybe he just wants to talk to me'._

Which would be correct.

"Spencer, nothings wrong" he said warmly "take a seat" when he looked up to a confused face he realised, but not fast enough to prevent the "where to?" That the young man responded. He smiled and chuckled slightly. "Sit down" and when Spencer did, he continued.

"So, this is a big change right?" He said referring to the change from the FBI education department to the BAU. Spencer nodded. "How are you handeling it?" He asked. Spencer thought for a moment before saying "it's ok" without looking up. "How do you feel about all the changes?" Jason furthered, hoping to get a better idea of how he was doing. "I don't know" was the quiet response followed by a much more confident "did you know that alexithymia, or the impairment of the ability to identify ones own emotions is quite common in people on the autistic spectrum, but it's commonly confused with not feeling emotion." How was that expected and unexpected at the same time? "Ok, but if I asked you to tell me if it is red or green, which would it be?"

"Brown"

"Brown?"

"Yes"

"Why brown?"

"It's a mixture or red and green"

"Ok, so what's green?" Gideon asked, that will be easier to talk about than the bad things, we'll build up to that.

After thinking for a moment Spencer replied "I like having my own desk, mine is near Morgan's desk, sometimes he puts his paperwork in my pile but he thinks I don't know, and I like being good at things."

"Ok, that's good, now what about the red things?" At this Spencer ducked his head, unsure of what to say, not wanting to say it. "It just; takes a bit of getting used to..." he said, hoping to avoid the question, when he was met with silence he knew he had to continue "it can get kind of loud, and people sometimes touch me and I don't like it, and I don't like not knowing when I'm going to have to leave" his voice was rising in pitch and his eyes were beginning to water. The steady bounce of his leg was replaced by a jerky rock, his hands were wringing around one another and his eyes were secured to the floor, his posture so rigid it looked as though lifting his head might snap his neck. You could see the ragged intake of breath. "Ok, it's ok Spencer , now I know about this I can help you" getting no response he slowly stood up "come on, let's sit on the couch" he said, hoping the less formal setting may calm him slightly, and after a few moments Spencer seemed to comprehend what he had said and slowly moved toward the couch in question.

"Deep breaths Spencer" Gideon tried, hoping that it would work

Quiet cries filled the silence in the room as Reid brought his hands up to his face and rocked back and forth. All of a sudden he heard Spencer speak, far higher than usual and spat through tears. "Make it stop" he said quietly.

Moving to be lower than Spencer's face so as not to be intimidating Gideon softly said "make what stop?" Hoping he could finally help to young genius. No such luck.

As soon as he finished the sentence Spencer all but jumped to his feet, immediately Jason could see this would end badly. "MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP!" Spencer was now screaming at the top of his voice. His hands were tight in fists and were being hit full strength against the side of this face. The shouting was only getting more and more desperate, and was past beginning to draw attention. People in the bullpen were looking up towards the office, probably wondering what in the world was being done to him. Gideon was now on his feet trying to calm Spencer down, to no avail. After a moment Hotch appeared at the door, he of course knew of Spencer's autism, but had not expected anything like this. "What happened?" He directed the question towards Gideon, not expecting to get a coherent response from the youngest any time soon. Gideon gave a silent look that said 'I have no idea'. The only thing he could think about was trying to calm Spencer enough to at least stop hurting himself. He had seen this type of thing happen before but never this bad, he'd always managed to catch it early but this had just happened. "Spencer, it's ok, everything's ok" Hotch tried, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Before he even knew what was about to happen, which is pretty fast considering how fast his reflexes are, the younger man had drew his arm back and slammed it into the wall with all his strength, a very loud bang let the profilers know that that was definitely going to hurt later on. Not until his adrenaline calmed down though. All the commotion and the sudden bang had drawn the other members on the BAU to come to the office, and seeing the state of the kid he was slowly getting to know, but already grown a brotherly protectiveness for, Morgan ran forward to grab his arms before he could do anymore damage. Reid of course did not like being grabbed, struggling to get away from Morgan's grip he began to scream even louder "NO! ITS NOT OK EVERYTHING IS NOT OK!" Choking for breath. Hotch ordered the others out of the room, and Gideon began instructing Morgan to try to give Reid some deep pressure. Eventually the desperate breaths turned more into sobs, and the struggling began to subside and so the two set Spencer lay out on the couch. Gideon coached him back to some sense of calm and eventually all that was left to do was to get a soft blanket to put over him as he feel asleep, exhausted from his meltdown. His hand had swelled where he'd hit it, but he was refusing to have any ice, not wanting to upset him further Gideon dropped it for now. He watched the young man sleeping from his desk, noting the hundreds of red and purple dots appearing on his face from crying enough to cause blood vessels to leak. He knew when Spencer woke up he'd have a blinding headache and would probably feel a bit out of it. But for now he was asleep. Just as he had told Spencer, he needed to solve one thing at a time.


	2. Tying a tie

**If you have any requests or suggestions for chapters, plots, characters/relationships then please comment them.**

 **This is from Spencer's point of view**

I like working for the FBI. There are lots of strict rules and you're taught how to talk to the people you come across, the victims, the unsubs, the families. My mentor is Jason Gideon. He teaches me how to do things. He's one of the people that teaches me about how to talk to people. Derek Morgan, who I think is my friend, said that it must be like "the blind leading the blind" which Gideon told me was a joke. I do get jokes, but that joke didn't make sense. That usually means that it was sarcastic or an idiom, these usually confuse me because the words you say aren't the same as what you mean. That's why when Morgan told me that joke, I pointed out that neither Gideon or I are blind.

On September 22nd 2005 I was officially transferred from the education department to the behavioural analysis unit. I got a good routine set up, one for when we were called in in the middle of the night, and another for normal mornings. In the mornings I always wait for my alarm to go off at 6:30 am, then I turn off the alarm, get out of my bed and take off my pyjamas and change into the clothes I had picked out the night before, first of all I put on my underwear, then my trousers, then I put on deodorant and my shirt, then my watch over my sleeve, then finally my jumper or sweater vest, which I choose based on the season. I always shower before bed so that if I'm called to come in during the night I at least don't feel gross. I always leave the top button of my shirt undone, mostly because fastening it is a bit like trying to catch a fly in chopsticks. I like to dress so I am comfortable, I don't like tags or seams on shirts, and I usually wear my socks inside out. Next I go to use the bathroom, and then I go to my kitchen and make myself some coffee and put sugar in it. Once I've drank that I put on my socks, then shoes, and then it's time to leave.

Gideon made sure I had a good desk and helped me set up all of my books and the picture of my mom and I back home in Las Vegas . My desk chair spins, which means whilst I'm working I can swing myself from side to side whilst I do my paperwork. I was doing exactly this at 21:36pm when Gideon came over and sat on my desk. Everyone else had gone home. He was holding a small package and offering it to me. I decided to ask what it was before I took it, memories of the various times someone pretended to be doing something nice for me, only for it to turn into another session of arguable torture. But this is Gideon. I believe that he doesn't want to hurt me. When I ask him what it is he smiles at me and says "open it and find out" and I trust him so I do. Opening it reveals that it is a pack of neck ties. So that answers that question. "Thanks" I said, marginally terrified.

"Have a good night, see you tomorrow Reid" he said smiling, and with that he walked out of the bullpen, presumably to go home.

The next morning I woke up at 3:17, so quite early. I decided to stay in bed, considering how cold it was. My bed is comfortable and I like laying under my weighted blanket and reading, so that's what I decided to do, trying to take my mind off what had kept me awake until 1am. When my alarm finally went off I had read four books, having been continuously distracted by my own mind. That means the routine was about to start. Except it's not the right routine. Get out of bed, take off pyjamas, see the clothes that I layer out the night before. Put on my underwear, my trousers, my deodorant, my shirt. Then stop. Time to catch a fly with chopsticks. Except I can't, I can't do up the stupid button. I try again. And again. And again. And again. I can't do it. Maybe I don't need to, if I can just put the tie on it'll look alright. Except I definitely can't put a tie on. I can feel my fists tighten as my frustration builds and I am trying to control my breathing "Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Elle Greenaway, Derek Morgan, Jeniffer Jareau, Penelope Garcia" I know I'm saying this, I know I'm repeating it, I just don't know how to stop. I know it's illogical, that I'm standing here in my bedroom, half dressed, getting irrationally upset over a tie. A tie. It's stupid. I know. It doesn't change anything. It's still sending me mad. That's all I know. I don't know how long I've been standing there when Gideon walks in, seeing me shifting from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching my fists, repeating the names like a mantra. "Spencer?" He asks

"Spencer" I echo quietly

"What's wrong?" He asks and it takes me a moment, but I eventually manage to signal to the tie around my neck. "You need help?" He asks and so I nod, because I do. "Ok, is it ok if I come over to you?" He asks and I nod again. He carefully does up my top button and begins to tie up my tie, so I look down to see how he does it, which makes him laugh. "Spencer, I can't tie it if your chin is in the way". That made sense, so I lifted my head again, slightly annoyed that I could no longer see what he was doing. "Come on" Gideon says, "get your things together, I have some coffee and a breakfast muffin for you in the car" he continues. Looking at the clock I noticed it was 8:23am. I'm late. How long have I been stood here? Noticing I was starting to panic Gideon says "don't worry, I told Hotch I had to pick you up today, he's fine with it" it calmed me down somewhat, but I still don't like being late, so I pu my socks and shoes on as quickly as possible, made easier by my elastic laces, and I walk with Gideon to the car. "Tomorrow, bring your tie to my office in the morning, I'll help you put it on, no problem" he says, and that's exactly what I do. For about 4 months it works perfectly. Until one day I go to Gideons office, and he isn't there. I stand for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do, until Hotch calls me into his office. "Sit down" he says in his usual voice, "ok, Gideon is off sick today" panic. Panic. Panic. Panic. Panic. "Reid, Reid, listen to me, it's going to be fine, we're not going on a case, and I know what I need to do to help you like Gideon would." He says, his voice is very deep which is calming. "Would you like me to help you with your tie?" He asks and I realise he must be telling the truth, I nod and he stands up, so I stand to face him. When he's tied my tie he informs me I have some paperwork to do and that we're having a meeting in the round table room and 13:00 pm. The day is strange without Gideon, but also kind of good. Gideon always took it upon himself to help me, but today the whole team got to. I don't need much help, but it's little things you wouldn't think of that are difficult for me, like tying a tie. It's not that hard to help me , it's just hard to know what I need. I'm not going to need the help with the same things as others with autism, so you have to get to know us, individually. Just like anyone else.


	3. Hanging out

**I have deleted and re uploaded this chapter because I got some feedback telling me it had sections repeated, apologies, my phone was glitching and I thought I had sorted it out.**

 **Also, just for reference , some autistic people are very good at holding meltdowns in, which is what I imagine Spencer would do, in one of the episodes after Mauves death you could see books all over the floor as if they had been knocked over but around the others he didn't seem to be destructive.**

Derek had invited Reid, Hotch and Rossi over to watch the football. JJ and Will has got tickets to go, Garcia wasn't all that interested, and Emily hadn't wanted to be stuck in Dereks apartment all night. Reid has tried to get out to it, he'd come up with an abundance of excuses, but Derek had denied all of them.

"Pretty boy, you're coming, end of"

"But I don't even like football!"

"Come on doc, it's not _about_ the football"

"Then why are you inviting me over to watch _football_?"

"Because we're friends, we can hang out"

"What does 'hanging out' involve, exactly?"

"Just, hanging out, you know, you can have a beer, relax, just hang out"

"That's not really an answer"

Spencer had tried to find out exactly what was expected, but apparently _hanging out_ consists of _hanging out_ which isn't exactly the most objective of descriptions.

"Look, how about I make you a deal? You can come, bring as many books as you'd like, you can just chill out, have a drink, Hotch and Rossi will be there, and if you hate it that much, I'll take you home" Derek compromised, Spencer relented, although still reluctant. "Good, any more questions?" Derek asked with a grin, Spencer only muttered "why'd you call it an invitation if I don't have a choice?" At which Derek messed up his hair.

Spencer didn't know what he was supposed to wear. Was he supposed to go in his work clothes? His normal clothes? Derek had told him to wear what he wants, does that mean he could wear pyjamas? He wanted to wear pyjamas.

 **Me:**

' _Can you be more specific?"_

 **Derek Morgan:**

 _'Just wear whatever you feel comfortable in'_

 **Me:**

 _'That is not specific!'_

 **Derek Morgan:**

 _'What? You tryin to impress someone pretty boy?'_

 **Me:**

 _'No! I just don't know what I'm supposed to wear.'_

 **Derek Morgan:**

 _'You're not **supposed** to wear anything'_

 _' **Not** like that'_

 **Me:**

 _'Can you please just give me an answer?'_

 **Derek Morgan:**

 _'Jeans and a t-shirt'_

 **Me:**

 _'Thank you'_

So finally, he knew what to wear. He found some jeans, and a long sleeved t-shirt with blue stripes. _Technically_ it was a pyjama top, but no one needed to know that.

He arrived at Morgan's house, armed with a satchel full of books. Hotch was already there, apparently Rossi had gone to the liquor store, refusing to drink, what he described as, 'a sorry excuse for alcohol'.

Reid sat in the armchair in the corner, Morgan sitting on the couch at the end closest to him, Hotch at the other end. When Rossi got back he sat in the middle.

Reid was on edge, as much as he tried to just sit and read, he couldn't sit still, he tried to sit up straight, feet on the floor, and to stay still. But he kept moving, his feet didn't feel right on the floor, his back felt tingly, and he was hyper aware of the three other men in the room. Was he acting right? Were they all staring at him? He could check, but then what if they thought he was staring at them? Was he supposed to be doing something? Morgan said he could read, but what if he was actually supposed to be doing something else? He never knew.

He started to feel hot, his face flushed and the lights started feeling a bit bright. His jaw tensed along with the rest of his body, his fingers started rubbing along the cover of the book, his thumb feeling the edge of the pages over and over again. 'Oh god, they're definitely going to notice, what if they laugh at me, shout at me, beat me up?' His thoughts raced, and Morgan had noticed. "Hey pretty boy, you know you can take your shoes off man, get comfy, that chair is really good for curling up in" He said, light heartedly, but soft enough so Spencer knew he wasn't making fun of him. He looked around and saw Aaron and Dave both had their shoes off, and Aaron had one foot up on the couch. Spencer toed off his converse and placed them carefully to the side, before bringing his knees up to his chest. The other three went back to watching the football whist he went back to his book, a little more comfortable now.

It was all going quite well. Derek had remembered that Spencer didn't like the posher or more grown up snack foods and had bought him some sweet popcorn instead of the fusion flavours they were having, and while the rest of them were drinking beer, Spencer had opted for coffee, and no one had made comment. It was all going rather well until the game started to get more competitive. The three men were all now leaning forward, eyes fixed to the television screen. For some reason they all thought that talking to the tv would somehow change how the game was going, and as the game went on, they got louder and louder. It was starting to get a little painful for him. The shouts were unpredictable, Spencer couldn't see the screen so he didn't know when the next cheer, or criticism, would come. They were clearly invested in the game, Spencer was flinching more and more as the game went on, trying desperately not to cover his ears, not to think about the ear defenders in his bag that he so desperately wanted to put on. He kept trying, kept fighting, but the game was coming closer to the end, the tension was rising, and the star player had the ball, moving closer and closer to the goal, he ran, he passed, he got the ball back and he scored. The three men jumped to their feet, cheering, jumping, shouting. Until they heard the pained cry from their friend from the rather loud, and unexpected, noise. Despite his best efforts Spencer's hands gripped his ears, his eyes were tightly shut and his breathing picked up just a little bit. The men quietened down upon noticing their friends distress. "Hey, sorry man, we'll keep the noise down" Derek promised, keeping his tone even. Spencer calmed down somewhat, taking his hands away from his ears, he nodded, slightly embarrassed.

'Did I actually just do that in front of my colleagues, including my bosses?'

"Why don't you put your ear defenders on?" Rossi asked "I'll be fine" Spencer replied

"Yes, but you'll be good, if you put your ear defenders on." Hotch added in, and this convinced Spencer. Hesitantly he reached for his satchel, pulling out his plain black ear defenders, from a distance you could be forgiven for thinking they were headphones, that's what he told the officers at police stations if they ever asked. He pulled them over his head and relaxed into the familiar tightness they brought. The rest of the evening went well, once the game had finished Spencer asked what they were to do next, and decided he would stay for a while, joining in the conversation more and more as time went on. Aaron gave him a lift home, they had a bit of conversation in the car, Spencer thanked him for the lift.

Inside his appartment the tiredness hit him. Sociallising can be exhausting for people with autism. Sensory overload, social rules and two way conversation can be extremely tiring. That doesn't mean however, that Spencer didn't enjoy spending time with his friends. He was grateful for his friends, they were all very understanding, and pushed him to take care of himself, rather than try to fit in. He was happy he'd gone tonight, and as he was getting ready for bed he heard his phone sound, notifying him he had a text.

 **Derek Morgan:**

 _'Next time we can watch a documentary'_

Spencer smiled, his friends were good for him, but social events were not going to happen for at least a week.


	4. Different, not deaf

**Sorry this took so long, I've kind of had a bit of a block, any suggestions would be appreciated**

 **/WARNINGS:**

 **Contains the R slur**

 **I'm not trying to rank one form of bullying over another, this is just from my own experience**

All his life, Spencer had been singled out. He'd been pushed, shoved, kicked, punched, but what always stuck the most were the comments. Drawback of an eidetic memory.

"Freak"

"Retard"

"Psycho"

"Nobody will ever want you around, so do everybody a favour"

What people don't realise, is that although he might be a little different, he **can still hear**. He can still understand what people are saying, you don't tend to graduate high school at 12 without having a pretty good grasp of language.

The other thing people don't seem to get, is that the words last far longer than the bruises. Of course the physical abuse from his classmates took a toll, he still flinches when he can't quite tell what someone's thinking, on the off chance they're thinking _'you know what? I'm gonna punch this guy"_ but the words are what rang through his head every time someone rolled their eyes at him, every time someone told him he talked too much or he should just 'keep his darn hands still', every time he heard a grown adult, even a police officer, say one of those same things the kids in school would say. When he first joined, he got it quite a lot. _"We got 3 dead girls, and you brought some retarded kid?" "How can he be a profiler? He probably doesn't even know where he is!" "Is he here on some kind of inclusion quota or something?"_ Of course these were not often said directly to him, usually, they didn't even know he could hear. They were usually said to Hotch, Gideon, Morgan, occasionally even JJ. But what always stood out to Spencer, was that for once, someone was standing up for him.

 _"If you want the help of my team, then show some respect, you want my team, you want Reid"_

 _" **Dr** Reid, is the smartest person in this room, don't question his ability just because he doesn't want to shake your hand" _

_"You wanna keep your job? You better shut your damn mouth then!"_

 _"That's funny, he predicted you'd be a moron'_

It made Spencer feel good. He'd never had anyone defend him before.

After he told Morgan about the goal post incident, he thought a lot about what people had done to him. That, in part, is what lead to him calling Derek at 3:24am.

"Hello?"

"Morgan"

"Kid, what up? We got a case?"

"No, sorry, I shouldn't have called, I'll let you sleep"

"No, kid wait, I know you well enough to know you're not going to sleep until you got this out of your system, so come on, what's going on?"

Spencer paused

"Kid? What is it? You got a girl round or something?" Derek said teasingly

"No, no nothing like that, it's just, remember what I said earlier, about the high school thing, you're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"Of course not, you know I wouldn't do that"

"I know, it's just, I don't want people to think even worse of me"

"Pretty boy, believe me, no one on our team think anything bad of you, and you know we'll always be there to back you up if you ever get the confidence to stand up for yourself"

"Thanks Morgan"

"No problem, now get some sleep"

After that, Spencer tried to do just that. It started small, when an officer called him a freak, he made a point of looking up at him, just so he knew he'd heard. He started to take back the insults, saying 'thanks' when called a freak because, why the hell would he want to be like that guy? His personal favourite, when someone called him a retard and he said "my IQ is significantly higher than 70, and I suspect, significantly higher than yours".

It wasn't easy, that's for sure, but he could feel his confidence build every time, and the clap on the back from Derek, the tiny smile from Hotch, the grins from JJ, that made it all worth it.


	5. Spencer and Derek

**For the purposes of this story Derek and Spencer are in a relationship**

Today, was not a good day.

We'd woken up late, never a good start, and so the whole morning routine was rushed. We got to the bullpen at 8:06am, as Spencer told me repeatedly, 6 minutes late. Hotch, of course, didn't care.

There was no case, meetings weren't until 9 and we were pretty up to date on paperwork, 6 minutes did no harm, unless you're Spencer.

Spencer obsessed on it, like, the whole day. He doesn't even need to talk about it, you can tell just by looking at him, his eyes go darker, his muscles stiffen and it seems to pain him to stay still.

He once described it as feeling like his bones were expanding or bubbling, something I hope never to experience.

When the meeting started things only seemed to get worse. Every little noise seemed to bother him. Tiny grimaces, micro expressions, hands trailing up and down to his ears, jaw tightening, extended blinks, it was all adding up. I wasn't the only one to notice, at the end of the meeting Hotch let Spencer stay behind in the round table room, giving the excuse for him to look over the files again. I hung back as well, wanting to check in. Of course, Spencer insisted he was fine, but gave me permission to give him a hug, and I did, tight.

The weighted blanket works wonders, I figure a tight hug, if given permission, is probably going to work too, and it did, temporarily, but by lunch he was starting to get agitated again.

It was subtle at first but over time it became more and more obvious. By the time they were heading home it was obvious that the evening was going to be largely lead by Spencer, hopefully doing what he needed to avoid a full blown meltdown.

As soon as we walked through the door Spencer turned the arrow on his dial to red.

The dial was something his psychologist had recommended, a traffic light system so Derek knew if Spencer was up for being touched or not, they had a few around the house and Derek even used them sometimes, and red means no touching unless for safety.

I hate restraining my pretty boy, but I hate it a hell of a lot less than letting him hurt himself.

Spencer went straight to the bedroom where I could hear draws opening, pyjamas on I'm guessing. I went to the sitting room, putting the tv on quiet so as not to disturb Spencer.

A few sitcoms later the bedroom door opened, Spencer, clad in his pyjama bottoms, dark blue and red checked, and one of my T-shirt's, emerged holding another of the dials, he handed it to me and I saw he had bypassed the indifferent orange and gone straight to the green, which means he would like some physical contact, not anything that involves taking clothes off, verbal permission only for that, my rule, but usually, in a situation like this, it means he wants lie in bed with me hugging him and comforting him.

"Alright pretty boy" I said, getting up from the couch and moving with him into the bedroom.

That's how we ended up like this, his head against my chest, me running my hands up and down his arms and back, and my fingers through his hair. I'm not sure when Spencer fell asleep, but I am sure it's worth it. It's worth the bad days, the meltdowns and the days that Spencer doesn't seem to want me to exist in the same house as him. It's worth it for times like this, when I can just lie here with Spencer, just relax and be ourselves. Honestly, that's all I ever wanted.


	6. Spoons

**Again, for the purposes of this story Derek and Spencer are in a relationship, but not living together. If you have any requests for pairs please send them to me.**

When the team gets back from a case, everyone is exhausted. They all head off to go through their routines, Spencer included, but Spencer always did things a little differently. Most people can still function when they're tired, but Spencer, along with much of the autistic community, only has so much mental energy per day, each task takes up a certain portion of energy and once it's gone, something needs to counter balance to get some back. Eating doesn't work, it's gives an energy boost but doesn't make it any easier to understand and breakdown a task. Spoons, for some reason it's called spoons. After a case, he has pretty much no spoons left, so he gets dropped off home, he lets himself into his apartment, dumps his things by the door and usually passes out on the couch. He usually wakes up in odd positions with his shoes still on, and it never really occurs to him that he forgot to eat, shower, even brush his teeth. He tries sometimes, he really does, but even a genius feels like a moron when you stand staring at a toothbrush for 10 minutes and end up being defeated, unable to break the task down properly.

That was before he started dating Derek. Derek was usually the person that dropped Spencer home, since they were dating it made sense that one would stay at the others house every now and again, swapping it over so they both got to sleep in their own home. The first few times they stayed at Dereks. They went back to his apartment, Derek found a take out menu, ordered and sat with Spencer on the couch. He made sure Spencer took his shoes off, put Star Trek on, this helps him recharge and gain a few more spoons for the end of the day. Spencer would eat, brush his teeth, get changed and sleep in an actual bed. It's not that he needs a carer, he's not stupid or inept. But sometimes a prompt helps, it just takes a little time to figure that out, and accept that you need it. When Spencer was staying at his home alone he now left a dvd in the player before he left, that way all he had to do is switch it on. He has meals in the freezer, all he has to do is microwave it. He bought some mouthwash, so that even if he can't brush his teeth he can still clean them. Little things to make processing life a little easier


	7. Its not just special treatment

**No relationships or anything in this one, loosely based on something that happened to me, and for those who were wondering/asking, I have a diagnosis of autism and Visuo-spatial dyslexia, and some other posssibles that have never been formally diagnosed**

The bullpen isn't solely for the BAU. Other agents from other departments also have desks there. The BAU team all have desks close to one another, they have set desks whereas some of the desks are just for whoever needs them. Usually people see the personal items on the desks and take the hint that it's someone's personal desk. Sometimes, they don't.

Spencer was feeling good today, getting up and ready for the day was easy and as a result he was ready quicker than usual. He got to the bullpen earlier than his teammates, apart from Hotch, who had quite possibly never left. He was ready to just sit down and do his work, except he couldn't. Today, apparently, was one of those days when people couldn't see the blatantly obvious. A man, who Spencer vaugly recognised as an agent from one of the hostage rescue teams, was sat at his desk.

"Hey, excuse me?" Spencer began, slightly timid "this is my desk. I need to work here" he continued.

"Dude, can't you see I'm working? I needed a computer, what's the big deal?" Now, for the record Reid isn't rain man. So when he told him "there's 27 other computers available" he knew because he knew there were 28 computers in the bullpen, and only one was in use. Alas, the agent didn't care.

"Go use one of them then" Reid was starting to get a little annoyed now

"But this is my desk!" He exclaimed

The man now turned to look at him. "Look, I get you're _special_ and all that, but seriously, can you just get lost? I don't have time to try and explain it to one of your lot" and for a moment Spencer was speechless.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, desperately hoping that he hadn't ment what he thought he had

"I mean, you're autistic, and because of that you always get your own way. But let's be honest, you might be a genius, but you shouldn't be here. You should be..."

"Agent!" A voice boomed over the office. It was Hotch. "My office, now" he continued

The man smirked "Looks like someone's sick of your..."

"Agent, if I wanted **Dr** Reid I would have addressed him as such, or as **supervisory special agent** Reid. The fact that I only said agent would suggest I want you to come to my office" Hotch corrected, tiring of the man quickly. Hotch glared as the man logged out of the computer, threw a glare to Reid before walking angrily to Hotches office.

In the office Hotch told the agent that he wasn't to sit in the seats of any of his team. That they had extremely sensitive information at their desks and that by sitting there he could have been obstructing a federal investigation. He also told him, with slightly less manners, that Reid gets treated the same as the rest of his agents, and that perhaps if he never sees him get reprimanded it's because he never does anything stupid enough to warrant a public reprimand. Fair to say, the agent didn't dare argue back.

Garcia had also gotten to work early that day, she'd planned to. She wanted to get in early and leave everyone their favourite coffee and donut so they could start the day off right. Upon entering the bullpen however, she found that someone, or something had already foiled her plan. Reid was stood by his desk, shifting jerkily from foot to foot, tears in his eyes. "What's up junior G man?" She asked in a low tone of voice, knowing that usually he found Hotch or Morgan's voice more comforting. Seeing a tear fall from his eye she quickly changed tactic. "Come on, my office is nice and cool, lets go sit in there" She then proceeded to count to 8 in her head, something Reid once said, that it can take up to 8 seconds for an autistic person to answer sometimes, especially if they were having trouble processing. It took almost all of that 8 seconds for Reid to will his legs to move in the way he wanted them to, having to fight through the static in his brain.

Garcia was right, her office was cool. Had Reid been in a better mood he would have told Garcia about how cool temperatures are good to calm the body as they stimulate the central nervous system and stop the overheating caused by anxiety, he would also tell her that sometimes in times of extreme distress an ice pack on the back of the neck is a good way to clear your head.

Garcia let Reid pace, only stopping him to give him his donut, chocolate frosted with rainbow sprinkles. Garcia kept the lights on low and didn't switch on her computers yet so the sound of the fan wouldn't annoy Spencer. She sat quietly for about 15 minutes, so Spencer's sudden talking surprised her. "I should be here" Garcia hadn't seen any of what had happened before, but didn't bother trying to clarify "I know you should, you save people's lives"

"I don't get my own way" he told her, which only added to the confusion

"I know that, if you got your own way then the FBI would serve jello at lunch" She said, trying to lighten to mood.

"I'm autistic" that, was definitely unexpected

"I know that too, you gave us all a letter to explain it"

"But not the hostage rescue team!" He shouted and Garcia was slightly taken aback.

"Did someone from hostage rescue say something?" She asked, ready to rip the head off whoever had upset him so much. Unfortunately, Spencer just began repeating her question under his breath.

Hotch walked the offending agent to the door of his office, having sent an official complaint to his supervisor. Seeing Reid was not at his desk he asked Morgan, who had since come in, if he had seen him. "No, have you checked with Garcia? I saw her car on my way in" he suggested, Hotch thanked him and went off to find his agent.

Hotches voice had a calming effect on Reid, as usual. He managed to get him to sit down and explained to him that he has requested disciplinary action against the agent, and reminded his supervisor that the information about Reid's diagnosis was strictly confidential, that only necessary people should be informed by a third party. That from now on, he hopes that only agents Reid chooses to tell will know. That's not out of shame, but as the events show, some people are morons.


	8. Alexithymia

**Sorry, I know it's been a while since I last updated. Hoping to get back into it but I'm struggling a little for ideas. (If you have any, let me know!)**

 **This is actually happened to me when I tried to explain it to my class. Except I refused to dance.**

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When someone asks you "how are you?" It's perfectly normal to say "fine" right? Even when you're not, that's just what you say, to anyone, family, friends, therapists. You say fine then unload all the reasons why you're not fine. Except, most people _know_ they're not quite fine. If they're sad, or stressed or mad. They do know, it's just easier to say they're fine. Spencer always says he's 'fine' too, except when he says it, it's because he can't pinpoint any other word to say.

The team notice, how he's so clearly stressed out of his mind, but just keeps working like he's not until he drives himself too far. When he gets mad, he can't seem to walk away, even though he knows he should. He just keeps going until he loses his temper completely. How he'll be miserable for hours but then seem surprised when he breaks down.

One day, after a spate of him clearly being overwhelmed and not doing anything about it until it all got too much yesterday, Morgan decides to ask him about it.

"Hey pretty boy, how come even with your genius brain you never seem to know how take care of yourself?" He asks

"I can take care of myself" Spencer replies simply.

"Oh yeah? How come after a case we all have something to help us deal, but you just carry on like there's nothin' on your mind until you can't take it anymore."

Spencer doesn't even turn around, still concentrating on his paperwork. That's not unusual though. "Probably because I don't know until I can't take it anymore"

Morgan laughs. "How can you not tell? Last week you chewed your lip so much it bled"

"Alexithymia" Spencer answers without looking up.

"Alexi what?" Morgan laughs "what the hell is that?"

"More common in those with autism spectrum disorder, alexithymia is the inability to identify or describe ones own emotions" Spencer recites. Derek turns to his friend in surprise.

"Wait, kid, you mean you don't know how you feel?" Once again Spencer doesn't turn around

"People with alexithymia report not being able to identify specific emotions based on physical sensations" he responds.

"I didn't ask about people, I asked about you" now Spencer turns around.

"I don't know, it's weird. It's like, I can always feel stuff in my muscles and bones, but I can't figure out what it means, I guess."

"So you just have no idea?" He asks doubtfully

"I can get it down to good or bad, mostly. It's hard to make yourself feel better when your brain can't figure out what's wrong" he tries to explain, but it's hard to explain when that's all you've ever known.

After a beat to try and understand what his friend just explained, and although he can't quite get his head around it, because how can _he_ not know his _own_ emotions, as well as other people's, he decides that perhaps, he can help. Or at least have a little fun. A few taps on his keyboard, "well pretty boy" he throws Spencer his ear defenders "pay attention".

"To what?"

"Your muscles, bones, wherever you feel somethin'"

Derek taps the spacebar and pop music starts playing. Derek stands up and starts dancing around.

"What are you...?" Spencer asks

"Confused" Derek shouts over the music, moving toward Spencer and motioning for him to dance with him. By now the music has attracted the attention of the rest of the team, including Hotch and Rossi who have emerged from their offices above the bullpen. Reid ducks his head, thanking the stars there's no other agents around. For now.

"Embarrassed" Derek laughs. Soon enough the girls are joining in, Hotch has stopped trying to glare lasers and is now giving a rare smile while Rossi films the younger agents on his phone. With the encouragement of his team mates Spencer reluctantly stands and sways to the rhythm of the music, soon enough he's laughing along with the rest of them. "And that, pretty boy, is happiness" Derek explains "think that's up here now?" Derek points at Spencer's head.

"I'm not sure that's how it works" Spencer laughs.

"Never mind, guess we'll just have to keep tryin' then"

"I want 3 more files from all of you before the next dance party" Hotch deadpans as the song ends and the team laughs.

"I mean it, back to work, 3 files" and strangely enough, everyone, including Spencer, work that little bit faster. Because ok, it might not help him figure out when he's stressed, but dancing with your friends is good stress relief anyway.


	9. Friends

**This is set before the show actually starts**

 **Yes, I have done this before and once they realised I was fine everyone found it very funny**

When Spencer first joined the BAU he was nervous. Every time in his past that he has joined a group he has been relentlessly tormented and ridiculed. Now, he is joining a team where a requirement in that you pass a physical and agility exam. An exam Gideon got waved for him so he had a fighting chance of getting in. Which means that he will almost certainly be the weakest on the team.

Despite his concerns, Spencer was pleasantly surprised. Gideon introduces him to the group as a whole, then takes him to Hotches office to formally introduce him. Turns out Hotch isn't as scary as he looks, in fact, he's quite nice. He shows him to his desk in the bullpen, before him and Gideon leave him to settle while the rest of the team are on their break. JJ is the first to return, she smiles and says hi to him, offering one of the cookies she'd bought and Reid manages to mask his mistrust, after all, in his experience pretty girls are sweet and kind only until you trust them enough for them to stab you in the back. _Or tie you naked to a goalpost._

The next person he meets wasn't there when Gideon introduced him to the team. She wears brightly coloured clothes and doesn't really look like an FBI agent.

"Hi sweetie, are you the newbie?" She asks brightly. Spencer is slightly taken aback by the bubbly and upbeat persona, having expected to only come across serious, suit wearing men who look down on the fact that he has no hope of lifting a barbell over his head.

"Uh, yeah" he replies, trying to figure out why she's now just staring at him.

"Am I allowed to know your name?" She smiles and Spencer feels like a moron for not realising he should introduce himself.

"I'm Spencer Reid" he sputters, the strange woman smiles kindly at him "nice to meet you, I'm Penelope Garcia, but you can call me _goddess_ if you like" and once again Spencer doesn't know how to react, but he smiles, because he has a feeling that this woman is probably the person actually in charge of the BAU, even if Hotch thinks he is. Garcia helps him set up his computer, and ends up giving him a crash course in its basic functions. Hotch brings him out a duplicate file to attempt to check he knows how to fill them in properly. Finally, he meets the person he was most afraid of from the beginning.

"Hey man" the darker man calls, raising his hand to shoulder height. Spencer doesn't mean to flinch, but when he does the man changes his approach. "Hi, I'm Derek Morgan" he says with his voice even "nice to meet you man"

"Nice to meet you" Reid replies meekly before the two turn back to their work.

It took about 2 weeks for Spencer to let his guard down around the team, other than Gideon. But as he did, and he got to know them, he realised quite how wrong his expectations are. Hotch, although always serious, also has a sense of humour. Even when he accidentally manages to hit him with one of his 'rockets'. JJ somehow is a pretty girl on the outside, but on the inside is one of the girls who liked to mother him when he first started highschool at age 9. Even Derek, who he assumed would take every opportunity to bully him about his physique, his age, his personal life, anything, turns out to be a good person. It takes him a while to get Dereks sense of humour, but as it turns out he only teases people he likes, and avoids jokes that he can see upset anyone. He doesn't even mind when Spencer makes a joke in return, he damn near encourages it in fact. For the first time, well, ever, he has a whole group of friends.

When Derek goes to Chicago for his mother's birthday (a yearly tradition so he's told) he hadn't expected to miss him. The office is boring without him. He misses his jokes, the way he messes his hair up, and although without Derek sneaking him files he doesn't have as much work to do, there's no point when there's no one to mess around with he can't really enjoy it. When the day finally comes that Derek is coming back, he's pretty excited.

Derek returns to work after 3 days of visiting his mom expecting to come in, sit down, have a leisurely conversation with his coworkers and then be given a stack of files. He doesn't expect to walk in and see everyone crowded around Reid's desk, with him sat in his chair, ice pack being held to his head by JJ. Hotch is stood off to one side, arms folded, Gideon is sat on Reid's desk, smiling fondly at a slightly pouting Reid.

"Hey guys, what's goin' on?" He asks, causing the others to turn to him.

"Hi morgan!" Spencer chirps, trying to stand, only for Hotch to glare at him until he sits back down. Everyone says their hellos and exchanges pleasantries before Derek can get an answer to his question.

"Spence got a little over excited, started jumping around, and managed to slip on a marble" JJ explains, Gideon surpresses a smile

"He hit his head on his way down" Hotch finishes "we're waiting for first aid to come check him over" Derek can't quite wrap his head around it

"What got you so excited you were jumping?" He laughs

"I jump a lot when I'm excited" he defends

"Ok, so what got you excited" and Spencer just ducks his head

"Because he gets to see his friend again" JJ smiles, as does Hotch and Gideon.

"I knew you'd make friends" Gideon laughs, and he's right. In a few months he's gone from being afraid of Derek, to being so excited to see him that he stims himself into a head injury.


End file.
